Two. (Phan)

1. Dan

Leather shirts were not good for walking around london on a hot day.

Dan pulled the sticky fabric off his front but it only made it worse.

The next time he'd go out, he'd wear something lighter. Or maybe he just wouldn't go out at all. He could wear the shirt again in a couple months, when the weather turned colder and the sweating would be replaced with the shivers. He still needed to buy a winter coat, he'd do that while he was out.

"Is that Dan Howell?" A girl whispered to her friend as they passed.

"No fucking way, that was Dan Howell!" Her friend half laughed as they talked amongst themselves.

He wished he had a coat now. He'd like the hood.

It's not like he didn't mind them whispering or even coming up and talking to him. He didn't mind meeting his listeners, but sometimes when your hot and bothered or just not in the mood, and have other things on your mind, being left alone was all he wanted.

He could hear them in the background debating whether to approach him or not, but he just kept walking.

He had things to do anyway. Buy food from the shop, he could do with a new pair of jeans...and that winter coat...

He sighed and kept walking, regretting wearing all black from head to toe on such a warm day.

Okay, half regretting it. He liked black.

He sighed again as he slumped over more, dragging his feet across the pavement. He hated doing the shopping. He hated doing it alone more, but Phil was busy.

'Christ' Dan thought to himself, like he always did when Phil popped unexpectedly into his head.

It's not like he even needed to think about Phil, He lived with him. They were best friends and flatmates and they were successful, together, and they had been for five years, so it was almost too much to think about him when they were apart for more than two hours.

Dan knew it was too much, too.

He couldn't help it that he liked Phil.

And not in a best friend sort of way either. He knew how he felt about Phil and he didn't like it one bit.

Its wasnt a special way he realised it either. Wasn't a 'love at first sight' or 'i didn't realise until now that i loved him the whole time', business. It was expected. When you live with someone of your sexual preference for as long as he had, you'll start to hate that person or....you know.

So, to sum it up, Dan was gay. Gay for Phil, at least.

It could be worse, he knew. It didn't affect his career at all and nobody seemed to give a shit and some people he knew were out of the closet as well.

Dan didn't like being gay. Well, he didn't like being gay for Phil.

He liked his image.

The awkward, quiet, young musician who wore black and looked like an old myspace kid and over pondered existence. If he wasn't enough of a characteristic mess already, why not throw being gay on top of it. He didn't have a huge story about 'discovering' he was gay or anything.

It all started with Phil, like it always does.

So, anyway, it was nothing special.

He had been feeling weird things towards Phil for a while back, but it was around last year it became clear as day. It was one of those rare days in london when the sun was shining and the weather wasn't shit. He woke up a quarter to noon and walked into the lounge and phil was just sitting there.

That was it.

He was cross legged on the couch with his laptop typing away, in his morning quiffed up hair and his glasses and a blue jumper on.

Not overwhelming enough? He reached over and grabbed two blankets, and gestured to a second mug on the coffee tables.

"Morning! Fancy some tea?"

Legendary. Amazing. Iconic. Literally nothing.

This wasn't even a new thing. Phil had done this for him multiple times before and vice-versa, but as Dan accepted the tea and blanket and curled up on the couch to watch Phil write, he remembered thinking that he could do this tomorrow and the next day and every day of the rest of his life. He remembered thinking about how one day, they'd have to move apart and start there own family but Dan didn't want anything more then Phil. Looking over at him, he became cold and felt lonely in his own body. He'd quite like to scooch a little bit closer under Phils arm and cuddle up to him. He went from liking it to wanting it and then almost needing it.

He hated himself for thinking that.

If his dad knew he was thinking like this, he'd punch Dan and call him a faggot, this time, he'd have a reason to.

If his mom knew, She'd comfort him with kind words and "I'll love you no matter what" and then when her friends asked about the love life of her precious son, she'd tell them it's just a phase.

If Phil knew? God forbid.

It kept Dan up at night. Thinking about what everyone would say. He'd more or less have a positive support but did he really classify as gay if he only liked one guy?

He questioned his sexuality before, so it wasn't that new.

For a three year period when he was in his late teens, he was convinced he was asexual. He then went to a club and kissed a pretty girl and he threw that theory into the bin.

He sighed again as he pulled the door open to a shop.

He thought of kissing a girl now as weird. Not weird, but abnormal. Like kissing a frog. Not impossible, but only something you'd do if you were dared or if you knew it was a cursed frog that was actually a prince.

He hadn't thought about girls or cursed froges or anyone since that sunny morning in the flat. He hadn't thought about anybody but Phil.

He looked down as he left the shop and was surprised to see that along with the black jeans he bought, there was also a red, navy and white striped bombers jacket. He hated colour on his clothes. It was his size though.

He could have returned it or sold it or even worn it himself to give it a shot.

He gritted his teeth as he stuffed the jacket unnecessarily hard back into the bag.

This is why he shouldn't think of Phil. Phil would love this jacket.

He marched off to the shop to stock up on food, throwing cheese and sparkling water and tomato juice into the cart because he knew Phil hated them, and he had to even out the good, so as not to be suspicious.

Dan forgot about his winter coat.

He sighed as he walked home.

He sighed again and again and again.